April 17, 2012

Learning to Walk

Simply by going out for a walk, I had become a strange being, studied by
engineers, inhabiting environments whose physical features are
determined by a rulebook-enshrined average 3 foot-per-second walking
speed, my rights codified by signs. (Why not just write: “Stop for
People”?) On those same signs in Savannah were often attached additional
signs, advising drivers not to give to panhandlers (and to call 911 if
physically intimidated), subtly equating walking with being exposed to
an urban menace—or perhaps being the menace. Having taken all
this information in, we would gingerly step into the marked crosswalk,
that declaration of rights in paint, and try to gauge whether
approaching vehicles would yield. They typically did not. Even in one of
America’s most “pedestrian-friendly” cities—a seemingly innocent phrase
that itself suddenly seemed strange to me—one was always in danger of
being relegated to a footnote.

I also like writer Tom Vanderbilt's description of walking as the "ultimate mobile app."